J.M.J.

A/N: Thank you so much for continuing to read this story! I'd like to thank in particular everyone who left reviews since I posted chapter 2: Candylou, max2013, EvergreenDreamweaver, Cherylann Rivers, and Caranath. I really appreciate your support and encouragement.

Chapter III

The Case

It was one of those days when Joe felt like he was running behind in everything. He had been up late into the night, reading up on everything he could find on the cold case he had discovered and studying the photos he had found for every possible detail. He'd slept in late because of it, and so he had had to scramble to get to Mass that morning. Father Schwartz, the parish priest, had stopped him to talk. That had taken long enough that he was late getting to his parents' house for their standing Sunday brunch with the whole family.

Aunt Gertrude, his father's sister who had lived with her brother for years, sniffed as Joe came through the door. "What's the matter with you? You look like you haven't slept in a month."

Joe laughed. "It hasn't quite been that long, Auntie."

"Fenton hasn't been keeping you working right through the weekend, has he?" Without waiting for an answer from Joe, she turned toward the dining room and called in a shrill voice, "Fenton, this is too much. Joe still needs to sleep, even if he isn't a growing boy anymore."

Joe chuckled. Aunt Gertrude was just as peppery and forward as she had ever been. At least some things would never change. His smile faded just a little at that thought. No, things had changed, even between him and Aunt Gertrude. With everything that had happened in the last few years, Joe had done some serious reevaluating of his life in just about every area. One choice that had threatened to drive a wedge between him and his aunt was his decision to become a Catholic. Aunt Gertrude, who was strongly Baptist, hadn't ben overly excited about the prospect. They had made their peace now, although Joe knew the time was coming when he would again have to put a strain between him and his aunt, not to mention the rest of his family.

"Morning, Joe." His mother greeted him with a hug and a kiss on his cheek. "Are you all right? Gertrude's pretty worried about you."

"I'm fine," Joe assured her. "I just didn't get to bed as early as I should have last night. I found a new case." By this time, he had gotten to the dining room where everyone was seated around the table.

"So, something came of that camera after all?" Frank asked.

"I'll say," Joe replied. He grabbed a chair and sat down next to Callie.

"It must be quite a case," Callie said, "for you to be so excited about it after the week you had. You should be exhausted from that alone. It isn't anything too dangerous, is it?"

There was a concerned look in her eyes, and Joe guessed what she was thinking. She worried about him with his detective work almost as much as Frank, as he was very much so a brother to her. Not only that, but Joe also thought Callie's conscience was probably pricking her that she was one of the main reasons keeping Frank from working with Joe as they always used to.

"Nah," he assured her, sounding more careless than he intended. "There's no way."

He paused long enough in his explanation for the family to say grace, and then he described how Biff had stumbled on the old Mustang, the camera in the trunk, and the photos that were on the old roll of film. He finished by giving a resumè of the bank robbery case.

Fenton and Frank listened with their whole attention, as did Aunt Gertrude, who was far more intrigued by mysteries than she was willing to let on. Laura and Callie also listened with patient good humor. Each knew the thrill that all three of the Hardy men got from solving cases, though neither of them quite understood the appeal.

"What puzzles me the most is those photographs," Fenton commented. "Who took them? And if they're clues to solving this case, why were they left in the trunk of that car?"

Joe nodded. "I've been wondering the same thing. Jeremy Wilson, the guy who owned the car, would make the most sense as the one who took them. I don't have any idea why he would have just left them in his trunk, though, or why he took them."

"Did you try looking him up?" Frank asked.

"Yeah. Probably not as thoroughly as I should have, but the problem was that there were several Jeremy Wilsons in the area, and I wasn't sure which one was the one I was looking for. I'll look into that today. I have an idea that I might know someone who'll be able to help, and someone else who'll want to be there when I talk to her."

"Sounds like there's not going to be any talking you out of this case." Fenton grinned. "It might be a little tricky to find the time with work."

"Actually," Joe said, "I was thinking after all the overtime I put in last week and since Tony and Van's wedding is this week and Nancy and Ned and everybody are going to be coming maybe…"

Fenton chuckled. "I suppose I could let you have some time off. Just as long as nothing big comes up."

"Thanks, Dad," Joe replied. He glanced over at Frank and it was on the tip of his tongue to ask him to come, but he thought better of it. He knew it wasn't easy for Frank to essentially give up working on cases, but he had both his promise to Callie and his own insecurities about it. Joe could understand and respect both. He wouldn't tempt him.

HBHBHBHBHB

Joe wouldn't have even needed to text Biff and Chet to know that they would be at Chet's parents' place, working on that Mustang. He had to smile when he pulled in front of the garage and saw Biff leaning over the engine while Chet was frantically writing something down on a pad of paper.

"How goes it?" Joe called as he got out of his own car. "Think she's going to make it?"

"I think it's terminal," Chet replied with a smirk.

Biff gave them both a withering glance for their teasing. "You guys just wait till I have this beauty fixed up."

"We'll wait, all right." Chet waved the paper he had been writing on. "Your list of what's wrong is longer than my list for the Queen."

Biff shrugged. "So, I'll have to order a few new parts."

"By the time you order all those parts, you'll be ordering a whole new car," Chet went on.

Joe laughed. "Looks like Kristy was taking advantage of you. You wanna go get your money back?"

"You guys really are the worst." Biff turned back to his examination of the engine.

"Seriously, though," Joe went on, "I was wondering if you guys wanted to take a break from the car and go call on Kristy. I want to ask her about who she bought her place from, if she knows anything about Jeremy Wilson, stuff like that."

"You must have found something interesting in that camera," Chet observed.

"I sure did." Joe explained the whole story for the second time that day.

"I'm game to go," Biff said, wiping his oily hands on a rag.

Chet and Joe couldn't resist teasing him a little, but Joe knew well enough how little he would have appreciated being teased about something like that so soon after he had broken up with Iola Morton, and so he soon changed the subject. Even so, Biff seemed just a little bit put out, which was unusual for him, since he was normally good-natured.

He wasn't one to keep his thoughts to himself for long, though. Before they had been in Joe's car for ten minutes, he turned halfway round so he could see both Joe and Chet. "Do you guys like what you're doing?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Chet asked. "Like, riding in the car?"

Biff rolled his eyes. "No. I didn't mean what you're doing right this second; I meant your jobs and all the stuff you do day to day."

"Oh, well," Chet said, "I guess I'm getting a little tired of working in the shop. I saw an ad the other day for a job with a TV station. That sounds exciting."

Joe turned his head so that Chet wouldn't be able to see his smirk in the rearview mirror. "How about you, Biff? You getting tired of working in the shop?"

"Not exactly." Biff frowned as he tried to put together exactly what he was trying to say. "It's a good job, it pays fair, and the hours aren't too bad. The problem is that it just is, if you know what I mean."

"I think I do," Joe said.

"I don't know." Biff frowned. "I mean, your job is super cool and important and worthwhile."

"Yeah. I guess it is." Yet, Joe's tone wasn't quite convinced.

By the time they had reached Kristy Lewis's house, Chet had completely done away with the serious mood by talking about the TV station job almost nonstop and half-convincing himself to actually go for it.

Kristy was surprised to see the three young men return, though not displeased, especially in the case of one of them. She listened with a thoughtful expression as Joe explained the reason for the visit. Being experienced as a detective, he would have preferred to keep as much of the story to himself as possible, but every time he left something out, Chet would immediately fill in the detail.

"That's so interesting." It was Kristy's tone and the light in her eyes more than her words that showed that she really was intrigued. "I've never helped solve a mystery before. What do you want me to do?"

"Just answer some questions," Joe told her. "First off, who did you buy this place from?"

Kristy bit her lower lip as she tried to remember. "I bought it through a realtor, so I never actually talked to the previous owners. I don't remember what their names were. I'll have to go look at the papers." She started to turn away from the door when she realized that she hadn't even invited her visitors in yet and that the entire conversation so far had taken place on her front porch. "Come on in and sit down. It might take me a couple of minutes. I hope you don't mind the mess."

The house looked like a disaster had taken place inside. The front door led into a living room which was piled half-full with packing boxes. The other half had two armchairs and a dining room table with six matching chairs, along with a large TV and a loveseat. The walls and floor were bare and badly in need of repair. However, the furniture was practically new and must have been expensive.

"Here it is," Kristy said, coming through one of the old-fashioned doors that led out of the room, several papers in her hand. "The people I bought it from are named Greenspan. Tyrel and Shari Greenspan. I have a phone number here, if that helps."

"Yes, it would," Joe replied, noting down the number. "I don't suppose you have any idea where they moved to."

Kristy shook her head. "Your guess is as good as mine. Is there anything else I can do?"

"It looks like you're making some major renovations to this house," Joe observed. "Was there anything in it when you bought it?"

"Not the house, no," Kristy said. "The barn was pretty much full. You saw it yesterday. Everything out there was there when I bought it. Do you think there's secret panels in the walls or the floor and that hundred and fifty thousand dollars is hidden behind them?"

Joe grinned. "I'd be surprised. If the bank robber lived here, he would have taken the money with him, if he hadn't spent it by then."

"Oh." Kristy's face fell slightly, but then she quickly explained, "It's not like I need the money – or rather, the reward for returning the money. It just would be exciting, you know? I've never had anything like that happen to me before."

"So, where are you from?" Biff asked. Though the mystery interested him, he felt it was high time the conversation took a friendlier and less business-like direction.

"Seattle," Kristy replied. "Yeah, I know; I'm a long way from home, and Bayport is kind of a funny place to end up. I just wanted to go on an adventure and have my own space where nobody knows my family or expects anything of me. See, both my parents are lawyers and are brilliant and rich and everyone's always bugging me about why I don't study law. Thing is, sometimes what everyone expects of you isn't what you need to do and you've got to chase your dreams even if they don't make sense anybody else."

It was almost a shock to Joe how close to home Kristy's words struck. "What are you going to do then? If you don't mind me asking, of course," he added quickly.

Kristy blushed, clearly embarrassed despite her brave words earlier. "That's the thing. I don't know exactly what I want to do. I know dozens of things I don't want to do and several things that I'd like to do, but I don't see how I can. I came back here trying to figure it out. At the moment, I've got a job at the hospital here in admittance. I guess it doesn't make sense to move all the way across the country just to get a job like that."

They talked for a long time. It turned out that Kristy was a very frank woman who was easy to talk to and made her visitors feel that they had known her much longer than just shy of twenty-four hours. Finally Joe, who was beginning to feel anxious to get back to work on the case, said that they would have to go. He and Chet stood up and said good-bye to Kristy, thanking her for her help and her hospitality, and went outside to the car. Biff, however, lingered a minute or two longer.

"It's been really nice to meet you, Kristy," he said, feeling that every word sounded pathetically stupid. "Thanks again for selling the car to me for such a good price. She needs a lot of work, but I'll have her fixed up before too long. I was wondering if maybe you'd like to see her when she's finished and maybe go for a ride in her."

Kristy smiled. "I'd like that."